


All There's Ever Gonna Be

by stew (julie)



Category: Extreme Prejudice (1987)
Genre: Army, Canonical Character Death, Comrades, Doomed Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Secret Organizations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1987-07-16
Updated: 1987-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24714367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew
Summary: A secret army ops team is waiting through the night before a strike. In the midst of chaos, McRose and Biddle discover something precious together. Maybe that's brave, more likely it's foolish, when any day could be their last.
Relationships: Larry McRose/Charles Biddle





	All There's Ever Gonna Be

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the film way back when as a Clancy Brown fan, and wrote this in response - I can't remember exactly when. The fic hasn't seen the light of day before! {gulp}

# All There’s Ever Gonna Be

♦

“What you looking all bashful for? Ain’t I seen you naked a hundred times?”

“And did you like it?”

Larry McRose looked down at the man, chewing gum, considering. He knew his was a hard face to read as it was inevitably impassive. Eventually he said, “It took hard work not to notice.”

Charlie Biddle seemed happy enough with that answer for he turned away, a grin on his face, to undress on the other side of the bed. When he turned again, McRose’s hat and automatic were on the bedside table, and McRose, stripped to his waist, was wedging a chair beneath the door handle.

“The Major likes to walk in unannounced,” he explained, heading back to the bed as Biddle slid onto the sheets, pushing the blanket back. McRose turned out the only light.

“Hey, how you gonna see me?” Biddle protested.

“Fair bit of contrast between you and the sheets,” was the low rumble as McRose sat to draw his boots off.

“How am I gonna see you?”

McRose huffed a laugh. He spent far too much time outdoors for his skin to be as white as the linen, but that wasn’t exactly the point. “Guess you’re gonna _know_ where I am.”

“But, Larry –”

“Sshhh… There’ll be the moonlight.” And he reached to pull the curtains back. A thick slab of moonlight silvered Biddle’s dark skin and cooled the warmth of McRose’s pale skin. The noise of the Mexican town’s Independence Day celebrations and the last of the day’s heat wafted in at intervals.

Biddle lay there while McRose finally drew off his jeans and briefs, and then lay beside him, leaning up on one elbow. Under McRose’s slow gaze, Biddle quivered a little, his cock already more than half erect. A long, still moment and Biddle’s eyes hooded as he murmured, “ _Larry_ …”

McRose reached to hold him before he fell back against the sheets, and drew him close. Without warning, McRose settled his mouth hard on the other man’s, kissing him hungrily, tongue insistently probing. Biddle fell into his embrace, leaning against him, eagerly accepting his hard kisses.

And it wasn’t long before Biddle was shuddering in reaction to the simple love-making, McRose holding him close, one large hand caressing the small of his back, his buttocks, the backs of his thighs. “God, it’s been _so_ long,” Biddle groaned.

McRose leant back to see Biddle’s eyes glazed, his lips as full and as hungry as his own. In truth it had been too long for him, too, since he’d had anything but the most transient, mechanical satisfaction. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice a husky rumble.

“You can fuck me if you want, Larry. I don’t mind. I like it.” And his eyes were trusting and lusty. McRose looked away, remembering times when those same eyes had been hard and ruthless, the eyes of an efficient killer. Other times when there were petulant, aggrieved flashes of hurt in those eyes that maybe Biddle had only ever shared with the calm McRose. Then, so unexpectedly, the heat and intense need matching his own that evening as they found themselves eyeing the same anonymous young man in a bar. And the gradual, silent acknowledgment of the fact that if they were to have sex with anyone that night, it had just as well be with each other.

“I’d like that, too.” McRose moved to kiss him again, but tenderly this time. Biddle was eager in response, and McRose lay over him, with a fierce embrace contrasting the sweet kiss. As Biddle became more incoherent, McRose moved down to take his cock in his mouth – and Biddle came almost immediately, pushing futilely against McRose’s shoulders to warn him.

“Oh God, Larry, oh Jesus save me.” Biddle curled up, shaking, and McRose took him carefully into his arms again. “Fuck me, Larry.”

“You’re sure?”

“Please…” 

McRose didn’t move right away, but thought for a long moment before offering, “You can do me after.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Biddle agreed, though he didn’t sound like he cared much. “Jesus, come _on_ , Larry!”

And McRose obliged, lying heavy over the man, his every move single-minded, purposeful. He came, thrusting hot within Biddle’s tight ass, crying out one surprised yell. 

“Larry, God… Larry!”

“What?” McRose lay beside him, breath short.

Biddle clung to him. “I loved that, Larry, I love you.” 

McRose almost hid his reaction. Maybe his fingers dug a little too hard into Biddle’s flesh. Maybe his skin, his eyes became colder. He was silent. 

“I don’t mean anything by it, Larry. We’re friends, we’re mates. You’ve saved my life a hundred times…”

“It’s OK, Charlie. It’s OK.” He shifted a little to pull Biddle into his arms again. Slowly, he kissed him. Soon their passion flared, and McRose fucked the man again, gently, insistently. Biddle came even as McRose entered him, crying out happily.

They lay wound up together afterwards, despite the heat. “That was good, Larry.”

“Mmm,” McRose agreed. And some while later he said into the darkness, “We’re mates, Charlie. Mates.”

Biddle seemed extremely happy about that, to judge by the width of his smile. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“We got to sleep now, all right? Strike’s on tomorrow. I want you to get your sleep.”

“I love you, Larry.”

“I know. Get to sleep now, OK?”

“OK.” But neither fell asleep. The moonlight had shifted off the bed as if shy of revealing their secret. Slowly they moved against each other, touching, holding with eyes lidded in the darkness. Seeking comfort, the simple touch of another human being, a friend.

McRose ended up hungrily kissing Biddle again almost before he knew what he was doing. He fell back. “You ain’t gonna go to sleep, eh?”

“How could I?” Biddle crooned. “Anyhow, I’m starving.”

“Of course you are. When have I ever known you not to be starving?”

“The cantina down the road’s open.”

“At this hour?”

“It’s festival time! They’ll be open all night.”

“All right, all right.” McRose grabbed Biddle up close once more, then let him go to climb out of the bed. “Just don’t start drinking. Eat, and then we sleep.”

“OK, mother hen.”

“Huh! That’s Sergeant Mother Hen to you.” McRose lit the lamp again and they dressed, avoiding each other’s eyes. “Come on, then.”

They made their way over to the cantina through the crowds and bustle. It was some while after midnight, but the festivities showed no sign of slowing down.

Biddle bought himself a huge plate of spicy beans and cheese and chewy bread. 

“You think I’m sleeping with you after you eat that?” McRose asked him.

“Sure!” Biddle grinned with confident amusement. “But maybe you should have some, too.”

“No way.” McRose sat opposite him and fell into contemplation. He’d told Biddle they were mates, and that needed thinking about. When Biddle had used the word, he’d meant it the way they were all mates, the six of them and the others. Lone bands of vigilantes, fighting with each other as often as not, close as family. Covering each other’s back, looking out for each other. Because you were literally dead to anyone else, and all you had was this motley group, like them or not.

But in the army, ‘mates’ had developed a second meaning. When a pair of friends or strangers became closer, when they turned to each other for something more than friendship. They sought comfort perhaps, closeness to another human being, or just the simple relief of sex. Except that McRose had found himself left out of such pairings, if only because they traditionally ended and were erased from memory as soon as the pair got back to the real world and their heterosexual inclinations could be satisfied once more. It seemed that these men could only love another man if they imposed a hundred restricting rules on the partnership, and if they could hold intact the belief that they really didn’t desire the other man at all. For a homosexual, all you had was the occasional furtive meeting with another man who was likewise, or a guilt-ridden anonymous encounter with some desperate straight guy.

It had been a long time since McRose had had sex as good as he’d just had with Charles Biddle. And he’d said they were mates. That was fine. He could be Biddle’s mate for tonight, and for tomorrow night. After that, who knew? Who thinks further anyhow?

Biddle smiled at him now, barely pausing in his onslaught on the plate of food. Biddle had said ‘I love you’, had said he didn’t mean anything by it. But how long had it been since McRose had had a lover? He couldn’t think – the ones he’d once thought of as lovers over the past few years had turned out to be anything but loving. That tended to preclude romantic memories.

And here was a man offering him love, a man he’d trusted with his friendship and his life. A man he’d been close to from the start. Biddle was only a couple of years younger than McRose, but had seen a lot less active service, and as a result was far less rough around the edges. When army intelligence had realised they had a computer genius in their rank and file, they’d quickly recruited him. Later they’d had Biddle officially listed as killed in action, and placed him on the Major’s team. Even now, Biddle’s tasks involved more hacking and surveillance than actual combat. McRose, as the team’s Master Sergeant, had been detailed to look after the less experienced man, and the two had unexpectedly become friends of a sort, brothers in the wider family of the group. McRose sometimes felt a century older than the other man. It didn’t take much active service to do that to you.

McRose looked Biddle over in the light of this night’s discoveries. He could be Biddle’s lover. For tonight, and for tomorrow night. After that, who knew? He would hardly break Biddle’s heart if it didn’t work out. Not him, McRose never broke hearts, no one ever cared enough for that. 

Biddle was looking askance at him, perhaps wondering what he was thinking. McRose gazed back, remembering Biddle’s hooded eyes, parted lips, lithe body, tight ass. His friend’s ready, eager loving. The heat between them growing to become a part of them both. “I want you again,” McRose blurted out, reaching to grab Biddle’s wrist.

“That’s fine. That’s good, Larry, ’cause I sure as hell want you, too.”

Except there was a lack of certainty in Biddle’s eyes as he watched McRose. After a while, McRose realised it was the passion, the need in his own usually bland face that had Biddle puzzled. But instead of retreating, of closing down his feelings, he let Biddle see the lust within him. “Come on, lover,” he said, tugging at Biddle where he still had hold of him.

“Oh yeah – lover,” Biddle murmured in reply, leaving the tail-end of his dinner behind.

McRose didn’t let go of Biddle as they threaded back through the crowd. And when they suddenly came face to face with the Major, McRose put an arm firmly around Biddle’s waist. The Major would think it was his business, and there was, after all, no way McRose could hide from the team that Biddle was now his lover.

“Evening,” McRose nodded politely.

“Bit late, isn’t it? You should be getting some sleep.”

“Yes, boss. Just heading for bed now.”

“Sleep, I said,” the Major came back flatly.

“Yes, boss.” They had to pretend to be civilians, but no one was quite relaxed enough with the Major to get away from some sort of title. McRose and Biddle stepped aside to walk on.

“McRose –”

“Yes, sir?”

“Hell, it’s festival tonight. Have some fun.”

“All right.” McRose led Biddle off, too busy anticipating their lovemaking to wonder at the Major’s change of mind, or even at the fact of him wandering the streets at this hour. “All right,” he whispered, bending close to Charlie’s ear.

“Lover…” Charlie murmured happily in return.

♦

McRose saw the first light of the new day golden-rose against Biddle’s skin. He gazed on hungrily as he gripped the man’s rib-cage, helping him move slowly, relentlessly up and down, his ass tight and slippery around Larry’s sensitive, overly-engorged cock. Charlie’s head had fallen back, his eyes unseeing, his breath pulsing with a low moan, hands unknowingly opening and closing around the cool dawn air. The moments lasted an eternity as Larry fed vicariously on his lover’s intense sensuality.

He watched, a little surprised, as Charlie groaned deeper and reached blindly for his own cock, stroking it shakily, arrhythmically down against Larry’s belly. Shuddering, collapsing in on himself, he came, muttering some sort of prayer. Larry, while fully believing in the healthiness of masturbation, had never actually witnessed anyone else performing the act, certainly couldn’t remember anyone he’d made love with needing to come so bad that they unthinkingly brought themselves to climax. As Charlie collapsed towards Larry’s chest, curling up in his protective arms, Larry found himself coming, when he thought he had truly spent himself some while previously.

Sweating and shaking, they clutched at each other, seeking again the simple comfort and warmth of a fellow human being. Larry realised that the other man had been as scared as he’d been by all the feelings they’d aroused in each other during the long night. “Love you, Larry,” Charlie whispered as they quieted finally to lie still in the growing light.

“I love,” McRose muttered – “how you make me feel.”

“That’s fine,” he replied contentedly, nestling in even further.

“No, that’s not fine, Charlie,” McRose said flatly. “No one else ever made me feel like this.”

“Sshhh –” Charles murmured.

“Before tonight, you meant the same to me as the others on the team. But none of them could have become this for me tonight. That’s the thing. We aren’t just mates. Anyone can be your mate. And it would never be like this.”

“Yeah, we’re lovers, Larry. You don’t have to say anything to make it true. It just is.”

“Love you, Charlie,” Larry said, looking down into his eyes. And the words didn’t stick in his throat like they had before, those times in his life when the words had been proved wrong before they could even be spoken. He had the eerie feeling that this was all there was ever going to be, that the words would be true for tonight and tomorrow night, and that was all that would ever matter. “I love you, Charlie,” he said again, trying to ignore the uneasy sense of desperation claiming him.

“Oh, Hell yeah!” Charlie happily replied. And Larry’s hopelessness lent a piquancy to his renewed, hungry caresses.

♦


End file.
